


Le jour se lève

by Oshxzyx



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ChanKai, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Model Sehun, Smut, Top Sehun, bottom Xing, chef Yixing, entirely self indulgent, hunlay - Freeform, just bc i can, lowkey sebaek, mega fluff, platonic sekai, sekai being bros, sexing, the Paris au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 16:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshxzyx/pseuds/Oshxzyx
Summary: Sehun believes he can make it big as a model, and what's better than Paris Fashion Week to get noticed ? Problems arise when he wakes up in Zhang Yixing's bed, and feelings he certainly did not sign up for start to bug him.





	Le jour se lève

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hocotate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hocotate/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a cute 2k one shot, but now I have like 10k words and still haven't finished :)  
> I would wait until it's completed to post it all at once, but I promised a certain someone that this would be her birthday present, so... Here you go sis: first chap for your special day <3

Sehun turned around in his sheets, appreciating the way their softness felt against his naked skin. He was feeling great. All warm and fuzzy. It had been a while since he'd last felt this good in the morning. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing the night before to be feeling this great. In the very back of his mind, he knew something was fishy. He didn't want to think about it, though. 

He had blurry, peripheral memories of Jongin convincing him to go out that night. He hadn't wanted to, at first, because they had just recently landed in Paris and jet lag was a bitch. But why was he thinking about this again ? He wasn’t going to let such unimportant memories ruin his good mood, was he ? He turned again so he was laying on his right side. He was so warm. This blanket was so soft. 

Something stirred up against him, and suddenly some of the warmth was gone. What the fuck. He couldn't let this happen. He rolled on his bed, arms open in an attempt to catch that source of warmth, eventually succeeding.

« Gotchu! » he murmured happily as he hugged it against him.  
There. That was it. Sehun sighed in contentment. He stayed still for a while, simply enjoying doing nothing. It was entirely too pleasant, he felt like he was melting in his bed. 

He almost fell asleep again when suddenly, something moved against him. It rubbed against him and he slowly became aware of soft skin against his. Legs interlaced with his. Someone grinding against his morning wood. And just like that his state of perfect well being ended and he was completely awoke and alert, blood pooling into his groin. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Ok Sehun, don’t panic. Alright. Take a breathe. Whoever they were, the person sharing his bed grounded against his cock again and he hold on a stifled moan, almost biting his tongue in surprise. Fuck. 

Sehun finally gathered enough courage to open his eyes. A tuft of soft black hair was at eyes level. He screamed internally. There was really someone. A person. In his bed. Ok maybe not his bed. He looked around. This was not his room in the airbnb apartment they had rented. He was in an unfamiliar place. That realization made him jolt from the bed and in his precipitation, he almost knocked down a fancy painting and broke his neck. 

The person in the bed fidgeted in their sleep and Sehun couldn’t fight the reflex of covering his mouth with his hand, even though he knew it wasn’t his breathing that would wake him up. He looked at the sleeping figure for a second, and damn, was the man hot. Even though he was sleeping with his mouth open. He was just as naked as Sehun was, and his skin looked so smooth. Then he noticed the numerous purple-ish red marks on his hipbone area, that were probably his own work. The man had such a cute and innocent face, Sehun almost fell on his ass when he noticed the stranger’s abs. He then realized he was staring, kinda creepily, so he snapped out of it. He stumbled on the stranger’s things as he tried to retrieve his clothes and phone. 

« Fuck. » he muttered under his breath.  
Clothes were scattered on the ground, and he wondered what the fuck had happened the night before. He found his boxers and jeans laying unceremoniously on the soft carpet, but his shirt was nowhere to be seen so he gave up and just opened the window. It actually leaded to a balcony, so Sehun took the opportunity and went out, closing the door behind him, though not entirely, so he wouldn’t be stuck outside. He needed a cigarette. 

The balcony was tiny, but its owner had somehow managed to put a tiny coffee table there, along with two chairs. He hadn’t seen the apartment very clearly in his haste, but it hadn’t seemed particularly grand, and nothing had prepared him to such a gorgeous view. Paris’ rooftops were stretching off into the distance, the Eiffel Tower dominating them majestically. 

« Well damn. » he said out loud, admiring the skyline. 

« I know, right ? » someone said, making Sehun jump. 

He turned around and a skinny Korean looking dude with fantastic fluorescent green hair was looking at him, from the next door balcony. 

«  Jesus Christ, you scared me to death ! » 

The man was wearing red Chanel yoga pants, which were clashing magnificently with his hair. He was also slightly sweating, obviously having been exercising. 

« Oops. » He didn’t seem sorry at all. « So are you the one who fucked Yixing ? I heard you guys going at it all night. I swear to god, if he didn’t need to get laid as much as he did, and if I wasn’t the sweetheart I am, I would have called the fucking police. ».

« What’s a Yixing ? », was Sehun’s first thought. He cleared his throat awkwardly. « Um. Sorry, what ? » he asked the man. 

The situation was so fucking absurd. He was in Paris, on a stranger’s balcony, talking in english with a man who was obviously Korean. 

« Yixing. You’re on his balcony. Barefoot and topless. I suppose you guys didn’t spend the night talking about your favorite movies. I mean, I heard you, so no need to lie, my dude. »

« I didn’t know his name.» Sehun switched to Korean. 

« Well that’s not very nice, considering his ass is gonna ache for days because of your dick. », the man answered in a perfect Korean. « I’m Jiyong. » he added, extending his hand over the balustrade. Sehun took it and they shook hands for a second, Jiyong’s grip firmer than he had expected. 

« So, what’s your name, pretty boy ? What do you do for a living ? » Jiyong asked.

« My name’s Sehun. I’m from Seoul and I’m here for the Fashion Week. I’m a model. » 

« Oh oh! » 

«  What do you mean, « oh oh » ? » 

« I can’t trust models. I can’t trust you with my precious, innocent Yixing. And you’re not even from here !» Jiyong lamented. 

« Why can’t you trust models, though ? »

« I have spent too much time with them to know they’re not trustworthy, is all. » 

Jiyong then proceeded to dive into a nice Trikonasana posture. Sehun tried not to be too impressed. Instead, he lit up a cig to occupy his hands. 

« You work in fashion ? » he asked.

« You could say that. » Jiyong said vaguely. « So how did you guys meet ? »

« I…don’t remember, to be honest. » Sehun answered, scratching his hair.  
He was so embarrassed. He had no idea what happened. He was going to kill Jongin. Best friend ? His ass. Best friends did not disappear, nor did they let their friend get into such tricky situations. He put his cigarette to his mouth, inhaling slowly.  
Jiyong changed into a flamboyant virabhradrasana posture, before he said: 

« Anyway it’s a good thing you met Yixing. I can’t see it, but you must have something special. It’s his first time taking someone home since he’s arrived, a year and a half ago. »

Sehun decided not to mind the fact that Jiyong found him uninteresting. He guessed he could only appear pretty dull to someone so eccentric. Then Jiyong’s last words hit him. 

« He hasn’t brought anyone home except for me ?! » Sehun exclaimed. 

« Yeah, he’s always working. Comes home to sleep late at night. Then he’s usually off to work early in the morning. I’ve never seen him sleep at this hour. Your dicking must have been quite intense. »

Sehun kept silent. Damn. This Yixing person seemed pretty nice and hardworking, in addition to having abs of steel. Now he felt even shittier for not remembering anything.

« Listen, man, I gotta go. You’ve ruined my night, and my morning exercise session. I can’t afford to be late on top of that. » Jiyong ended up saying. He rolled up his mat. 

« See yah around! »

Before Sehun could answer, he had disappeared in his own apartment. He put out the cig on Jiyong’s ashtray, since Yixing didn’t have one. Then he sat, taking his head in his hands. 

 

 

« What do I do, now ? »

He checked his phone out. It was 6:30 am. No missed call, no text at all. 

« Ah! You are such a shitty best friend, Kim Jongin. » 

Sehun then proceeded to call Jongin, even though the probability for the latter to pick up was coming almost to nought. To his surprise, though, his friend picked up after three rings.

« Sehun ? »

« Jongin, where the fuck did you disappear last night ?! »

There was a pregnant pause, during which Sehun could distinctly feel Jongin panic.

« Nevermind, I'm not sure I wanna know. Anyway, I need your help. »

« What is it about ? » Jongin asked immediately, with way too much relief in his voice.

Sehun decided not to raise it. For now.

« Ok, so I'm at some hot as fuck dude's place. He's still sleeping. What do I do ?! Like, do I sneak out ? »

« Oh god. Did you guys have sex ?! And do you want to sneak out ? »

Sehun rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might fall off their orbit.

« No, we played Mao all night while drinking french wine and then we watched Nemo. Of fucking course we fucked. Jesus Christ, Jongin ! »

« Hey man, listen. You asked for my help. I needed to make sure, ok ? So. Was it really bad for you to want to sneak out ? »

Sehun pinched the bridge of his nose. This conversation was getting nowhere.

« I never said I wanted to sneak out! And I'm not telling you the juicy details, Jongin. »

He didn’t add it was because he didn’t remember any detail at all, but the thought was there nonetheless. 

« If you don't wanna sneak out, then why are you asking me if you should ? »

« I don't know, Jongin. What do people usually do after a one night stand ? Is there a rule ? What is basic courtesy ? Should I leave before he wakes up ? I mean, maybe he doesn't want me to be here. What if I'm staying and we're awkward ?! »

« Damn Sehun, take a breath. Why didn't you call… I don’t know, Jongdae ?? »

« Are you insinuating that Jongdae hyung is our main hoe ? I'm so telling him. » 

« Telling him won’t help you, Oh Sehun. »

Sehun sighed. Right. He was still at that man, Yixing’s place. And no idea about what to do. 

« I should have checked Google instead of calling you. »

« For once, I agree wholeheartedly with you, my friend. » Jongin said with a laugh in his voice. Sehun could perfectly picture his eyes becoming tiny crescents, and his boyish smile too. 

« You are useless. » 

« I don’t know, maybe you should make him breakfast or something. As a thank you. And as a goodbye. »

« That is literally the stupidest idea ever. »

 

 

Yixing woke up to the familiar sound of utensils colliding. What the hell was the sous-chef doing ? Or was it that new apprentice ? What kind of cacophony was that ? What was wrong with them, early in the mor-. Wait. Morning. He was still in his bed. The sun rays on his skin were way too warm for it to be 5h50 am.  
He was doomed. He thought about his whole team, lost in the kitchen without him. What was gonna happen to the lunch service ? What if they managed to put the kitchen on fire without him to control them ?! His kitchen… He felt his stomach torn in pain at the idea. 

A smell of butter invaded his nostrils. What in the hell… If he was still in bed, late for work… Then who was cooking ?! He opened his eyes. Looked around. He was alone in his room. He sat up, slowly rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. He sighed and stretched himself. Why was he so sore- Oh. Oh! Ok. Sure. He remembered it. Surely his ass would ache for a week, with the way he had ridden that hot Korean model the night before. Totally worth it, though. He pinched the bridge of his nose. So the dude was cooking breakfast. In his kitchen. That was actually… Cute ? Kind of thoughtful, he guessed ? He quickly grabbed his shirt which had somehow landed on his bedside table, put on his briefs and walked toward the kitchen. 

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but clearly, he wasn’t prepared to see his one night stand struggling to make fried eggs, shirtless under the dick drawings covered apron Luhan had prank gifted him when he’d gotten his promotion as head chef. He couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. The Korean turned around at the sound and froze like a deer caught in headlights when he spotted Yixing at the door. 

« Oh. Hi. » He sounded kind of panicked and put down the pan he was holding. 

Seriously, why was he even holding it to begin with ? It’s not as if he was making crêpes or pancakes, now, was he ? He was still staring at Yixing, obviously not knowing what to do. It was cute, how someone this tall, this sculptural could be so awkward. Yixing smiled at him to calm him down, but somehow it seemed to make him even more nervous.

« I’m sorry, did I wake you up ? I wanted to make us breakfast… »

Yixing’s smile only got bigger, and the man stopped his stuttering, only to stare stupidly at Yixing’s cheek. He knew his dimple was probably showing. If he was being completely honest with himself, it was utterly flattering to have such a handsome man gawping at him. 

« Yeah ? » he asked, his voice turning almost unintentionally seductive, as he approached the taller man. The latter was moving back at every step he made, looking up at him with uncertain eyes. Yixing grinned when Sehun’s back hit the kitchen counter, which effectively stopped him. What are you gonna do, now, huh ?  
He leaned toward Sehun, enjoying not so secretly making him all flustered. Then he grabbed two plates and put them in the Korean’s hands.

« Shall we eat, then ? »

 

 

Five minutes later, they were sitting in Yixing’s kitchen, face to face. Sehun was no longer shirtless, him and Yixing having found his missing piece of clothing under Yixing’s bed. How it had landed there was still a mystery. Yixing’s kitchen resembled his apartment in general: tiny, but cute. All white, it was pretty minimalistic in terms of furniture, yet Yixing had still managed to make it cosy. Yixing’s apartment was just like him, Sehun decided: simple and warm. 

They were getting ready to eat, in a comfortable silence. Sehun fidgeted as he watched Yixing take his first bite of omelette. His eyes suddenly widened. He then looked suspiciously at his fork. Sehun tensed. What if he had fucked up ?!

« Did you put cheddar in it ? And… Mushrooms ? » Yixing asked. 

« Um yeah, I like everything cheese. And I figured the mushrooms wouldn’t hurt. Even tho  
I did hesitate because they looked weird. Why are they so compact ? French mushrooms are so odd.»

At that, Yixing only chuckled.

« I see. » 

They continued to eat, until Sehun couldn’t contain himself anymore. It was his first time cooking for someone other than himself and Jongin, so he had to know. He cleared his throat. 

« So, how is it ? » 

Yixing pondered the question for a second. Not enough salt, a little bit too much pepper, should have added fresh cream. He tried not to think about the fact that both his precious four years old cheddar, as well as his two hundred and twenty euros worth of black truffle from Périgord were gone in this omelette. Instead, he smiled.

« Good. Thank you. It’s been so long since the last time someone cooked for me. »

Sehun beamed at him. 

 

 

Jongin jumped at his throat as soon as he entered their apartment, not even letting him the time to take off his shoes. 

« What happened with the hot dude ?! Did you end up making breakfast ? »

Sehun shied away from his best friend’s arms, quietly bending over to untie his shoelaces. He then got rid of his converse and made his way to the living-room of their rented apartment, Jongin following closely like a puppy.

« Sehun ! Come on, tell me !! » 

« No. Don’t. You don’t deserve to know. » he said, effectively shutting Jongin up. He crashed on the couch, face first, butt sticking out. A minute later, a warm cup of dark coffee, no sugar, was put on the coffee table. Jongin then sat unceremoniously on his butt, eliciting a loud whine from Sehun. 

« I’m sorry, ok ? » Jongin sing-songed in his most aegyoesque voice, the one he would always use when Sehun was mad against him. The one he’d use when anyone was mad against him, as a matter of fact. Worked like miracle on Chanyeol. Not so efficient on Sehun, though.

« I made this coffee for you. Just how you like it. » 

Sehun only huffed petulantly. 

« Come on, Sehunnie ! » Jongin pouted, tugging on Sehun’s shirt sleeve like a child. 

People often thought, upon seeing Jongin’s sculptural body, tan skin, and firm jawline, that he was some hot fuckboy. Little did they know that he was an actual baby most of the time.  
Sehun suddenly sat up, almost inadvertently knocking his friend against the low table. The latter let out a distressed squeak. 

« What the fuck man ?! » Jongin complained, rubbing his aching elbow.

Sehun looked at him straight in the eye, before he asked:

« What happened, last night ? Where were you ? Why was I alone ?»

At that, Jongin visibly paled. He looked away, mumbling something in his nonexistent beard. Sehun kicked him in the leg, hard.

« Oi! » Jongin protested. « It hurts you bitch. »

When he looked up, Sehun was still waiting for a proper answer, one eyebrow raised at him. Realizing his tentative of diversion did not work, he sighed, ceasing all pretense.

« Would you be mad, if I couldn’t tell you ? Not now, at least. » 

Jongin sounded utterly miserable. It alarmed Sehun, even though he was used to Jongin’s occasional phases of morosity, so he immediately dropped the act.

« Ok. Come to me when you’re ready. » he said simply.

Jongin smiled at him like his words meant the whole world to him. 

 

 

« Oi ! » Sehun tensed as the assistant inadvertently pricked him with a pin.

The young girl profusely apologized, and her fussing was starting to draw attention on them, so Sehun caught her wrist to stop her from moving more.

« You’re new, aren’t you ? »

The girl blushed, and he didn’t know if it was from their new proximity, or because he had guessed right. Probably both.

« How did you know ? » she squeaked, looking up at him. She seemed like she was only 18, still studying at ESMOD. 

« Well, for one, you pricked me. » he said. 

The girl looked mortified. 

« And you’re fussing over it, which makes us lose time. You’ll learn that time is something very valuable in this industry. Got it ? » 

The girl nodded quickly, so quickly, in fact, that Sehun feared she was going to break her neck for a minute. She then proceeded to get back to her work, putting to practical use what he’d just taught her. 

Sehun hated being in this position. He loathed passing off as some arrogant senior when he was only 24. He refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose. He tended to do that a lot, but wasn’t going to ruin his make-up.

When the girl was done arranging his outfit, she smiled timidly at him. He did not smile back, only nodding in response. He was unfortunately too used to school girls crushing on him, and prevention was better than cure. Then she was gone, and someone else came  
up at him with the accessories. 

Preshow fittings were taking most of his time. It was always a peculiar period, where everyone was bustling like thousands of bees in a hive. It wasn’t as agitated as the show itself, and there was a lot less adrenaline. However Sehun liked it because of the anticipation that was looming over everybody’s head. It was all about getting that morning black coffee, no sugar, heading to the HQ already pampered (light make-up on, hair groomed), and let ten people or so touch you all over, placing this and that on you, pinning and unpinning, again and again, until the right fit was found. It was a meticulous job, which took time. 

But Sehun was used to stand for hours, seemingly doing nothing. He had even developed a whole method to let his mind wander without getting caught. And he couldn’t help but think at the man whose bed he had shared, even though he couldn’t remember it. It was weird, remembering the morning after, the soft glances and crappy homemade breakfast, instead of the sex. Particularly when Yixing had one hell of a body. They had parted without exchanging numbers, with Yixing kissing his cheek as a thanks for breakfast. It hadn’t felt awkward, for some reason. Everything felt natural with Yixing anyway.  
Sehun’s thoughts drifted to Yixing’s smile, Yixing’s hair, Yixing’s smell. He hold on a laugh when he remembered the other smelt like a buttery cake. Everything about Yixing was soft. 

 

 

« Are you sure you want to do it ? You know you’re not gonna get paid for it, right ? » 

Yifan was looking at him and Jongin with concerned eyes. Sehun sighed. It wasn’t the first time he wouldn’t get paid for a photoshoot. At least it was a big magazine, this time. They needed the exposure and creds.

« I know. When do we ever get paid, though ?» he laughed bitterly. 

Chanyeol nudged him in the ribs.

« Hey, that’s not true, you get paid in Korea ! » 

« Yeah. In Korea. You know I’m not gonna earn a single penny for my work here, though. They’re gonna trade, at best.»

« Well at least, you’ll get some nice LV dress pants to wear, so don’t complain too much. Maybe your cute ass will then get noticed. » Jongin said.

Sehun raised a brown at that.

« My cute ass doesn’t need LV pants to get noticed. » he retorted lightly. 

« Yeah, that’s why we’re still stuck here, watching our hard-won money go up in smoke.» 

The whole room went silent at the low-blow, Yifan and Chanyeol both looking at Jongin in shock. It was true that among them, Jongin had always been the most reticent at this whole fashion week project. 

Gaining notoriety in Korea had been easier for them than Sehun had initially thought. The market was still expending, and young. Jongin and him had managed to start a career there. They had met Yifan and Chanyeol somewhere along the way and their group had been inseparable ever since. 

Yifan acted as their booking agent. His family was actually quite influent, but he had cut ties with them because of dad issues. Thus he was relying only on himself to book his friends nice jobs and opportunities. Yifan had done a more than decent job until then. 

But Sehun had always been ambitious. Having a name in his local market was just not enough. Jongin could live with it. Not Sehun. He wanted, needed to make it big. He wanted to be known internationally. Whether it be Paris, Milan, New York, London. He wanted to walk everywhere. Yifan believed he could make it. Chanyeol was always ready for new adventures. Jongin had followed, half reluctantly. He had never voiced his protests, though. Until then. 

Maybe was it the result of too much bottled up frustration. Sehun didn’t know. And it wasn’t that he didn’t care. Because he did. But he certainly did not appreciate being talked to that way. Jongin and him were best friends since the age of five, and best friends were supposed to communicate. Not keep silent and then throw such bombs out of nowhere. It hurt. 

« That was a joke, Jongin. I’m sorry this is taking me more time than we thought. I never asked you to follow me to Paris, though. You chose to do so. I’m sorry you’re coming to regret it. It’s not too late to go back, you know.» 

That being said, Sehun got up and went to his and Jongin’s room. He resisted the temptation to slam the door like a 13 year old, but locked the door nonetheless. Jongin would have to sleep on the couch, but he deserved it. Even from behind the door, Sehun could hear Chanyeol ask heatedly:

«  What the fuck, Jongin ?! »

 

 

His hands tugging soft black locks. A hot mouth worshipping his cock. Hooded eyes looking up at him through dark eyelashes. The noises, resounding almost obscenely in the room.  
The plump lips let go of his cock with a loud « pop ». A mischievous grin, and then, hands were moving from his thighs to his torso, pushing him against the pillows. Next thing he knew, his lover was sinking down on his cock, the tight heat engulfing him so suddenly, the most carnal groan escaped his lips.  
Soft hips between his grip, a torturous game of push and pull, in a race toward pleasure. Wanton moans of his name, and Lord, never had it sounded so good on any other tongue.   
The tight walls clenched around him, milking him as he cried his lover’s name.

« Yixing! »

Sehun opened his eyes. There was a sheer pellicule of sweat on his skin, his heart was still racing. 

« Oh my god. » 

He remembered everything. He was doomed. 

 

 

Sehun was cold. The wind was blowing hard, and the photoshoot’s location being the Pont des arts, there was no Haussman period building to reduce its impact. The cold was something, but the most difficult was posing with Jongin. They hadn’t talked after their altercation, Jongin having thrown Yifan out of Chanyeol’s room to take his place as roommate. Breakfast had been taken separately, and they had made their way to the shooting’s location on their own. Jongin and him usually worked well together, complementing the other’s work. It was like their very different physique were made to appear next to each others on glossy paper. Sehun had stopped counting the number of work they had had in common, because clients thought they matched well. 

Except it was kind of hard to work with Jongin, at the moment. The tension between them was almost thick in the air. Fortunately, there were a duo of female models posing with them. It was funny how magazines wanted to show their great open-mindedness, lately. One of the female model was white, whereas the other was black. As if making two asian dudes, one black girl and one white girl pose together just for one in ten cover was equal treatment and representation. And they didn’t even hire someone who could actually style the black model’s hair correctly. Poor girl had to do her own hair. Ah. What a joke. Still, Sehun shut up just like their whole lot, and kept on following the photographer’s directions. 

The photoshoot’s style was rather androgynous, so Jongin was wearing a crop top, which he completely rocked, in Sehun’s opinion. The white model had a tomboy haircut, that was for sure adding something to her loose, white button up. Jongin and him were asked to stand together, while the girls were leaning on them on each side. Sehun tried to be as professional as possible, but still tensed a little bit when Jongin put his arm around his waist.

« Hey. What’s wrong with you two ?! » the photographer ended up asking. « Why so much sexual tension ? » He laughed saucily. 

Sehun kept a straight face despite being really tired. Somehow, photographers that worked with big houses were always deeply convinced that sexualizing young models was ok, and that they were funny. 

« Ah, you don’t understand english ? Ah ah ah. » 

The girls looked at Jongin and him, managing to convey how sorry and embarrassed they felt through their eyes. The man then carried on the shooting, not noticing how awkward the whole set felt because of him.  
By the end of the day, Sehun was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He crashed in his bed as soon as he arrived home, not even caring to take a shower. He fell into an agitated slumber, his thoughts wandering towards reassuring arms around him and a buttery smell on soft skin. 

 

 

The show was taking place at the Musée du Louvre. Louis Vuitton sure as hell didn’t skimp on resources. It was his first time walking in such an ancient and historical place. He didn’t know if he’d ever have such a chance again. The fact that Yifan had succeeded to find them a walk during PFW was already miraculous. He had to make the best out of the opportunity. 

He could feel the apprehension rise as the last adjustments were made. His heart was thumping, he could almost hear it. Suddenly, everything was overwhelming and usually he’d just hold onto Jongin’s hand, but Jongin wasn’t there, and even if he was, holding hands was not an option anymore. 

The dressers were moving around as fast as ice skaters, in a perfectly planned choreography. The effervescence was at its peak, creating a permanent buzzing as background noise. One of the starters came to fetch him, and the adrenaline was getting to his head, numbing his senses as he got ready. He could still hear the music, but somehow it was a lot attenuated in his mind. He tried to focus on the rythme, but it was drifting away until he couldn’t hear anything anymore. 

The starter gave him a sign to tell him it was gonna be his turn. He was starting to panic when suddenly someone grabbed his hand, making him jump. He turned around, and Jongin was looking at him.

« I can’t hug you, or else the stylist noona is gonna have my head on a plate. » Jongin said, gripping his hand stronger. It was like he was communicating all his strength to Sehun through their hands. That was just like Jongin to think this way, and Sehun low-key judged him for this fantasy anime shit. Still, it worked, to some extent. He could hear the deafening music again. The starter called him and before he could miss the beat, Jongin had gently pushed him forwards. And even without words involved, Sehun accepted his apology. 

 

 

When Sehun ended his walk, he didn’t realize it was finished until someone came up to him, congratulating him. Someone with green, fluorescent hair. It took him some time to get a hold on himself and reconnect the dots. 

« Jiyong ?! »

« Hi shitface ! »

The man was wearing an extravagant outfit, that Sehun was sure only him could pull off. Maybe him, too. But that was only because his face and body proportions made everything look good. Jiyong was much smaller than him, but somehow the outfit seemed to be made for him. 

« What- What are you doing here ? » 

Sehun was usually pretty quick-witted, but he was feeling exhausted, like that short walk had been equivalent to climbing the Mount Everest. 

« Jesus, you’re still high. Is it your first time walking ? » 

He could see Jiyong was trying not to sound exasperated. 

« No. It’s just… » 

« It’s his first time walking for something this big. » someone pipped. Yifan. Sehun was about to hug him, he wanted to be engulfed in the taller’s arms. He really needed some warmth. But Jiyong stopped him with a flick on the forehead.

« Hey, what was that for ?! » Sehun whined.

« You are not to ruin my clothes, you little shit. » Jiyong said disapprovingly. 

Sehun could only stare at him in bewilderment. 

« See, that’s why I told you I couldn’t trust models. »

 

 

Jiyong ended up taking him to dinner, along with some other models and fashion editors and really, the crème de la crème in the french fashion world. Because what Jiyong meant, when he said he was « kinda working in fashion », was actually being Louis Vuitton’s fucking artistic director. Ah! 

Jiyong had seemed to take a liking on Jongin, Chanyeol and Yifan, for he invited them too.

« I’m not usually the people type, but you guys seem cool. At least, cooler than Sehun. And there are just not enough Korean faces in these motherfucking dinners. I’m tired of french people’s shit. So c’mon, it’s on me. » 

Chanyeol and Jongin weren’t the type to say no to food, even from a complete stranger. That’s how they all ended up at the 1007, a Chinese fusion restaurant which had opened not too long ago, but had earned its first Michelin star in record time.

It was a nice change, to be able to eat in a gastronomic restaurant. Even more so when their usual diet was mainly composed of ramyeon. Sehun watched Jongin and Chanyeol’s eyes sparkling up at the sight of the first course. And then the second one. And the third one. And so on. They were like children getting their gifts on Christmas Eve. Only Yifan, having grown up in a wealthy family, was acting like it was his natural environment. He kept on eating slowly, sometimes saying a word or two to Jiyong, who looked equally blasé. 

Sehun took a bite of his scallop dumpling, and it felt like it was the closest he would ever get to heaven. But having dinner, in the fashion world, was more about talking than eating, and soon enough, Sehun found himself conversing with various people, whose identities he wasn't sure of, but counted on Jiyong’s renown for them to be influent.

When his neighbor excused himself to the bathroom, Sehun did not expect for someone to take his seat seconds after his departure. 

« Hi. » A boyish smile. The man was wearing a fitted, white button-up, associated with black slacks and a black Mont Blanc Summit watch at his wrist. Effortlessly chic. Sehun smiled back at him, unsure of the reaction he should have.

« You are the one who wore the kaki outfit at the show earlier, aren’t you ? » 

« Yeah, that was me. » Sehun said slowly. The man extended his hand.

« Nice to meet you. I’m Byun Baekhyun. » 

 

 

Some time later, after Baekhyun had left, Sehun excused himself to the bathroom. He was still slightly dizzy from the conversation and the wine. The man had asked him simple questions, such as his usual occupations outside of fashion week, his age… He had asked Sehun’s phone number, but had left without handing out his own card, which was confusing. He needed to cool off. 

The Chinese themed restaurant was a labyrinth of red lanterns and woodworks. The subdued light made the atmosphere a lot softer, and more intimate. The place was also not devoid of somewhat secret alcoves, and Sehun noted many couples had found them rather convenient for some confidential activities. Just as he was about to find the washroom, though, he noticed two familiar figures in one of them. It made him stop dead in his tracks and he almost let out the loudest gasp. 

« We shouldn’t be doing this here. » Jongin’s voice was low, his words hushed, full of urgence. 

Chanyeol was holding him against the wall, kissing the junction between his neck and shoulder, not listening at all to Jongin’s pleas for him to stop.

« Why are you always like this, Jongin ? » 

The frustration was evident in his voice. He nipped at the younger’s skin angrily, not caring about the fact that Jongin was just melting limply in his arms. 

« Are you that ashamed of me ? That you’d hide me from the world ? Do I not deserve to be your boyfriend ? »

Chanyeol was almost shaking Jongin by the shoulders at this point.

« No… It’s not like that. Chanyeol. Hyung. » 

Jongin’s feeble words did not seem to appease Chanyeol, but Sehun left before he could hear more. He was feeling like a brick had elected residence in his stomach. Jongin…was seeing Chanyeol. His Jongin, was in a relationship. With Chanyeol of all people. Suddenly, his best friend’s weird behavior and unexplained disappearances made sense. Sehun pushed the bathroom’s door, still shaken. How could he not have seen it ? He felt a pang of guilt at having called Jongin a shitty best friend. He was the shitty friend. He didn’t even know Jongin liked men. The only relationship the other having ever had being with Soojung, a female model from the same agency, everyone had always assumed Jongin was straight. Still, he was not just anyone. He should have known better. He washed his hands and after a quick look at the mirror, he figured washing his face as well wouldn’t hurt. He grabbed his blazer. He had to get back at it.

He never got back to his place, though. On his way, he spotted Jiyong talking with someone, whose face he couldn’t see yet. The man was wearing an all white outfit, along with a toque. No need to be a genius to guess he was the 1007’s chef. 

« Hey Sehun ! Come greet the chef. » 

Jiyong’s smirk should have warned him, but Sehun was still confused about his interaction with Byun Baekhyun, and shocked about Jongin and Chanyeol, his thoughts were a mess and his brain didn’t ring the alarm bell at Jiyong’s suspiciously joyful tone.  
When the man turned back, Sehun could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a nanosecond. Soft black hair tucked under a chef’s hat. The man smiled at him. A deep dimple. The chef was no other than his handsome one-night-stand.

**Author's Note:**

> I commited a crime because Jiyong is Chanel’s bitch, but I made him into LV’s bitch. Forgive me my lord, but that was for the greatest good.


End file.
